A Chat With Jack
by Relevant
Summary: Set post Sherlock RBF and post Torchwood Jack/Ianto hookup. Jack as John's biological father. Rated T for mentions of unmarried relationships.


A short crossover work, Torchwood and Sherlock.

Also, I own neither Torchwood nor Sherlock.

* * *

"John! John!"

John Watson looked at the silver car with silvered windows that had pulled up next to him, stooping a bit to see the man in the driver's seat through the open window. "Jack? What are you doing here?"

"After recent events, you can ask that? Get in. Let's go somewhere private." John opened the door and slid in beside the tall man in the old military overcoat. "Is there somewhere you would suggest?"

"It depends on whose notice you are trying to avoid."

"The usual."

"Did you add Mycroft Holmes to that list?"

"He was already on that list. And you ought to turn off your phone."

"Right." John suited actions to words then also removed the battery and dropped them in separate pockets. "Three blocks, parking structure on the left, second level from the top. It has plenty of camera shadows."

Jack pulled out into traffic and sedately wound his way to the parking structure John had indicated. On the penultimate level John spoke up, "Here, anywhere between these two pillars. As long as we stay between the pillars and forward we should be unobserved."

Jack pulled in and parked but put a hand on John's arm to stop him from opening the door. "Just a moment. Let me check with my colleague." He pulled out his phone and fired off a text. After a moment a text came back. "She compliments you on your choice." With that they opened the doors and got out to sit on the hood of the car to look across London, the Thames shaping the view before them.

"So, Jack. Why now?"

"Because when it happened I was knee deep in rift fluctuations. By the time I could get away it had already been over a month. Another week wasn't going to matter."

"A text?"

"With how your phone was being monitored? Hah! No. Which reminds me." He dug into his coat pockets and handed a box over to John. "Here. It's basic but unmonitored. Three numbers stored, the last is James but you know what his schedule is like. Bug sweeper built into the back, just ease off the cover. If you really need to talk try to do it off camera."

John took the box and opened it finding a compact flip phone. He cradled it in his hand. He cleared his throat. "Thanks, Dad." He tucked it in his pocket. "So, why are you really here?"

Jack shuffled his feet and stared at his toes. "Because I'm about to break one of the cardinal rules of time travel. Sort of."

John put his hand over Jack's. "Jack. Don't. Not for me. Life should be a surprise."

"That's just it, John. I don't have any details, just … suggestive facts. And I do know to be careful, I was a Time Agent."

"And there are things you think I need to know?"

Jack shook his head, "Look at you, John. In the last month you've lost weight. A lot of weight. You aren't sleeping, your hands are unsteady. You're trying to keep up a front but you're falling apart inside. I know, I've been there. All I can extend is hope."

John pulled his hand back folding his arms in close to his chest. "Go ahead."

"In the Fifty-first century there are still stories of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson. The blog of the Detective and the Doctor that followed him was preserved… mostly. It's gone through data degradation and reconstruction but it's still there. Even with the controversy surrounding it, some insisting that the entire thing is a fabrication, some that it's all true and some saying that only part of it is true, it's still there and still capturing imaginations."

John couldn't help himself, he laughed. It was rusty but it was a laugh. "Did you set me up for that?"

Jack laughed. "No, John. I gave you one of the most common names there is in this time and an unusual name in case you wanted to use it. I didn't choose who you would be adopted by. I didn't even think anything of it until you met Sherlock Holmes." Jack hesitated, shuffled his feet again and continued in a soft voice. "And according to those old files his adventures didn't end with him walking off a building."

John didn't move for a solid minute. Then he slowly straightened and turned to Jack. "He's not dead? He'll be back?"

"I don't know. As I said, there's a lot of controversy around those original files. How much of it, if any, was a fabrication? That I'll only know after you've lived it, John. But you have to live to find out."

John didn't respond he just looked out across London. Until finally he asked, "How do you do it?" Jack just waited. "You've done it often enough. How do you rebuild a life when it's shattered around you, again?"

"One day at a time. You still have friends. From the army and Barts. They haven't abandoned you. The police will come around in time." Jack grinned, "I'd love to meet that Lestrade, a true silver fox."

John groaned, "Dad! I have to work with…" John trailed off to begin again. "If Sherlock is alive Mycroft will be keeping an eye on people who were close to Sherlock, including DI Lestrade. If you want to avoid him, cultivating a relationship with Lestrade is right out."

Jack sighed, heavily, theatrically. "Pity."

John smiled, certain now of something he'd suspected. "You're in a relationship now, aren't you?"

Jack's eyes twinkled. "Yep. Speaking of relationships, when do I get grandchildren?"

"Dad."

"It's not like you can't charm them into bed."

"Dad."

"Compact but a powerhouse, that's my boy."

"Dad-"

"Remember that Uni break when I whisked you off to Australia? That was a fun week."

"Dad-"

"Or the next year when we hunted Weevils in New York? The wrap party we stumbled into was epic."

"Dad!"

"Wasn't that why your army buddies called you 'Three Continents'?"

"They didn't know about that!" John huffed while Jack grinned. John massaged his eyes. "It was Leave in Egypt and India. And no, I'm not going to South America just to round out the inhabited continents." Jack just grinned while John pulled himself back together. "That's just it, Jack. I could charm them into bed, if that was what I wanted, but no matter how good the sex, that's no basis for a long term relationship."

"No… It looks like, for you, it takes adrenaline and danger."

"I was not shagging Sherlock!"

"I know, John. I can read between the lines and I read your blog." Jack raised his hands at John's threatening glare. "Alright, I'll stop teasing. Oh, son. It's good to see life back in your eyes." John's stiff posture softened and Jack pulled him into an embrace. They stood there just holding each other, the shorter man swamped in the folds of the dramatic overcoat for long minutes. When he pulled away there was a damp spot on the wide lapels. "Better?"

"Yeah, Dad. Better."

"I'd take you to dinner, but-"

"Yeah. Mycroft."

"So go get something to eat somewhere Sherlock was welcome, like that Angelo's, and start taking care of yourself again. And rebuild your life. And if you need me, even if it's just to talk, just call."

"That goes both ways, Jack. If you need to talk you know where I am."

They turned and rounded the car to slide into the seats. "Where can I drop you off?"

John smiled.


End file.
